❀✿Em✿❀

Vent
          
          I found out my dad, who I went no contact with years ago, passed away. It hurts a lot more than I every expected. Despite everything he put me through, my heart is broken.
          I'm a mess of regret and grief. At first, I was just in shock, of the 3 versions of me, the little girl I once was, was just as devastated as when he left for the first time.
          And now, every version of me is feeling the pain, all I can think of is how much more he'll miss out on. He never got to meet my boyfriend, who I plan on marrying. He didn't make my graduation, or 70% of my younger life. But that 30% he was around, I see it through rose tinted lenses for the first time. 
          And once more I'm that 4 year old sobbing for her daddy to come back. 
          Even monsters fear dying alone, and it will haunt me that my dad died alone. My entire life I've loved him and hated him in equal parts, but for probably the first time, the love overwhelms the hate. I miss my dad, but more than all I miss the dad that he could've been if he had tried years prior.
          I love you, but I hate you for leaving us again. 
          I owe you no apologies, but I'm sorry you were alone. You didn't deserve it, and maybe we can meet up on the otherside eventually. You owe me countless daddy/daughter dates after all, and as promised years ago... I'll save a dance for you at my wedding. Love you dad.
          -your little girl

A letter to a friend, 
          
          I hate that I have to remember you longer than I knew you. But at the same time... Knowing you was such a wonderful experience. I hate that I can barely remember the sound of your laugh. Your crooked smile is etched into my mind with the gentlest of care, because while you were tough as nails, SOMEONE should've treated you gently.
          It's only been 5 months. You've been gone 5 months. Every single day since I've gotten the news, the only thing I want to do is call you, but I'm terrified if I call, it won't be your number anymore and all I'll have is a contact photo.
          I think a part of me died when you did, I hold onto what I have left so tightly my knuckles have gone white. I don't love the same anymore, and everything feels... dimmer. When you left, the color in my life went with you.
          I find myself laying awake, cursing how blind and stupid I was to not see the signs. I bury myself in mountains of substances to try and fill the hole you left open and bleeding in my chest. I drown in memories of you, bits and pieces of our friendship, all the triumphs and sorrows. 
          I see you when the sun rises and sets, when the moon has reached its peak and even when the sky is hidden beneath clouds. There was so much more I wanted to do with you, so much more to see and experience. I didn't know I would have to continue alone.
          I love you kandice, and I will always miss you. Save me a warm spot and a glass, sooner or later we'll see each other again.
          
          Vixere.
          
                     --Em

I'm not here often, but my account still has some semblance of reach, so it's time to use my platform.
          
          I had a friend a long time ago, unconventionally pretty in a 'academic decathlon' sort of way. She was brilliant, a musician and listened to Demi Lovato and the Vamps to "connect with new American friends" as she would put it. She was a proud Muslim, and unfortunately neither her or I expected my hometown to show them such prejudice. She was bullied in class, and the teachers seemed to approve of it. The breaking straw was when she cried in my arms because some idiot accused her of causing 9/11. They left. The entire family was bullied and harassed into leaving, and I never saw her again.
          Now what I didn't mention, is that she was born and raised in the middle east, and spent her entire life checking over her shoulder and running from attacks on all sides. I see her face in every TikTok video covering Palestine. I see glimpses of her smile in the faces of innocents smiling into the camera as they're slaughtered. I see her eyes squinting against the sun, but not to look for clouds. I see the ghost of her, as I remember her, standing in the rubble of hospitals and churches. 
          I see her in them. I could never wish any Palestinian any harm, but if you my followers do.. if you happen to support this genocide.. please respectfully unfollow me. The Israeli government is using Jewish people as figureheads for a genocide. The world vowed never again. The world lied. 

I hate that I miss him.

⚠️ vent⚠️
          Today I found out that Matt moved on. I know how that statement alone makes me sound, but I promise I don't have feelings for him or relatively care about him or what/who he does. But once he was everything to me and now he's a stranger, and part of my heart will always love him even if it no longer should. 
          And it's not so much that he moved on that bothers me so much, it's who he chose to warm his bed. He is dating the woman he cheated on me with, the woman that cheated on my cousin with him. The woman who is a year older than his mother, and gave him an STD. 
          I'm angry, I think. I forced myself to block Matt out of my mind my heart and my life. But Everytime I hear anything about him my heart still hopes he's doing better, even if my mind hopes he suffers for what he put me through.
          If this relationship doesn't last, it'll be my final straw and I don't know what will happen then. But I can't handle another heartbreak like that again.

Little Life Update #2:
          February 20. Today was the last day I saw Matt. We a great time despite being broken up, we smoked and continued watching the last of us. Then a notification came across his phone. A text back from his ex girlfriend, he had already been texting her and four other people despite the fact that he was just kissing me 10 minutes before. I found out that he was only with me because he didn't want me to kill myself because he'd feel guilty.
          February 15. One of my childhood best friends is a dad now, I hope he's mature enough to take care of my honorary niece. (Update, he wasn't. He lied to his baby momma about going on a road trip, and dropped her and the baby off in Arizona, the next state over, with no phone or money. He ditched them so he could go to a party with his ex girlfriend. It took a week for baby momma to get back to California.)
          January 1. Matt broke up with me today. We got into a fight because he went out to a party and didn't want to take me. It was a party being thrown by someone I see as a little brother. He didn't want to spend new years with me. He screamed in my face and threw my dresser across the room, nearly hitting me and moved out to my cousin's house (knowing my cousin was my escape from my mom). My heart hurts.
          
          
          
          I posted this newest to oldest chronologically, because that's the way my brain works. This is pretty much everything that's happened since 1.1.23, spare for some other events that I cannot share here though. Just wanted to get some shit off my chest, and fill in anyone who was wondering "damn.. is this person still alive?"

Little Life Update #1:
          August 24. I finally told off my grandmother. Though I'm still not trusting of my mom, I will not allow another person to make her feel how I felt my entire life. I screamed at my grandmother, and gave her a piece of my mind that no longer had any place in the puzzle of my mind. Side note, she now knows I smoke, and is NOT pleased. My heart no longer hurts.
          August 14. I just celebrated my 21st birthday earlier this month, on a camping trip with family with my best friend and the love of my life. That morning I was woken up by everyone singing me happy birthday from outside my tent. I found out that Matt had been cheating on me the entire year long relationship with multiple people. Side note, I found out he got an STD from sleeping my my cousin's girlfriend.
          March 24. I got out of that terrible house filled with toxic people and negativity and (some of) my abusers. I reached my breaking point and i was on the verge of suicide, and something told me to give a friend a call. That night I had my bags packed and a place to stay, that friend ended up becoming my boyfriend, Damian, and we've been together happily since. Side note, I stole Matt's Xbox.
          

I've reached my final straw with people commenting on shit I haven't even touched since 2018. As you've noticed I've unpublished quite a few of my older stories along with some that I had posted just as vent pieces. No, I haven't deleted them, but they've gone back into the drafts where I'll never even look at them again. I'm tired of wasting people's time. I don't think I'm going to be posting again.

Vent
          Today is one of the bad days. My bf and I got into another fight this morning, and I was honest when we were yelling. I told him I was scared of him, I flinch when he moves to fast towards me, I can't be myself around him, how depressed I've been lately, almost to the point of total relapse. When I go to walk out, "you walk out that door Emma, and we're done." Then he goes to work. He got home about half an hour ago, and we go to our room to talk about what happened. As I turn on the light, I hear him mutter "we need a break." So he's staying at a friend's place and I'm sobbing in our bed alone tonight.
          Fuck my heart hurts though, usually he just (accidentally) hurts me in the physical sense. I'd nearly forgotten that painful ache in my chest. And somehow I feel like it's my fault.

Vent
          So I texted my bf something important that happened at 4, and then I texted him again at 6:30 asking him to bring home dinner, because we have nothing in the house to eat. (Spaghetti noodles, no sauce. Hamburger no helper situation). instead of reading them, he opens our chat and sends me reels from insta. When he gets home, no food and he lies to my face saying he didn't even get the texts, even tho he left me on read. Then when he denies that I even sent him the texts and I pull up proof, he gets defensive and starts lying and starts guilt tripping me 'well I had a bad day'. Then he starts pressing me to kiss him and I didn't want to because he's lying to my face. So I lean away and told him "I'm not consenting", he starts trying to try and pull me closer, trying to pry open my legs and nearly screaming "we're past the point of consent in this relationship!" He's 230 lbs, and he easily pinned me, (being 5'3 150), snagging my face on his clothes and nearly splitting my lip. When I kick him away and grab my face, I demand that he recognize that I didn't fucking say he could, and I got hurt because he did so anyways. He just walked out. 
          I don't know what to do anymore. I hate it here, I hate being near him, I hate being alive on the same continent as him.